


Regret

by CaptMazPrime



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: First Meetings, M/M, Regret, repressed feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-29
Updated: 2016-04-29
Packaged: 2018-06-05 03:53:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6688150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptMazPrime/pseuds/CaptMazPrime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Megatron's focus never wavered from his goals. He did not look back and he did not have regrets...except when it came to an enigma by the name of Optimus Prime.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Regret

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write a little something for my OTP, so this was born.

The expansive energon mine rumbled with the activity of drills. Megatron stood overlooking it all, servos crossed behind his back. Starscream prattled on about one thing or another to his right, but the warlord just ignored him. He was quite pleased with the progress they had made in the last few weeks. The Autobot interference had been annoying of course but not too detrimental for the most part.

“...and so, my Lord, I suggest we open up another mine at these coordinates before the Autobots get wind of the large quantities of energon there,” Starscream continued.

Megatron looked down at his second in command. “I suppose you are right, Starscream. It will fall to you to get the new mine up and running.” Megatron did not particularly like Earth, but he did appreciate its vast quantities of energon. He hoped that it would give him the edge he needed in this long war. He gave Starscream a pointed look. “You had better start working then.”

Taking the hint, Starscream nodded and walked a few paces away to a console. He began to type and Megatron looked away again.

He decided that his presence here was no longer needed. As he turned to leave, a large explosion rocked the mine. He whipped around to look at the source of the loud noise.

The Autobots were making their way into the mine. Unsurprisingly, Optimus Prime was leading them, taking out any and all Vehicons in his path.

Megatron growled. Of course he would show up. He powered on his fusion cannon and took a few shots at the Autobots. “Decepticons, attack!”

He charged into the battle, snarling when his shots missed their targets. His main focus was on the Autobot leader. His opponent seemed to have the same thing in mind, as he was running straight at him. As they met in the middle of the mine, Optimus’s blade clashing with Megatron’s cannon.

Optimus Prime. He was an enigma that eluded Megatron. The mech had a strong set of morals and virtues that he had never seen in anyone else before. His strength stemmed from something more than just his physical build.

And those optics. Blue and endless. Yet they were full of a sadness that most could never see. But Megatron could read those optics like an open book. It was strange, really. The two of them were enemies--each other's nemesis. And yet they shared a connection deeper than anyone knew. A connection that had been cultivated and warped through millions of years of war. A connection that had first developed long before Cybertron was plunged into war and destroyed.

They had been more than enemies. They had been more than friends. They had been…

///

_Past (Pre-War Cybertron)_

Megatronus stood before the Iacon Hall of Records, looking up at the grand building. The gladiator looked incredibly out of place in the magnificent city. Numerous Iaconians shot him strange looks as they passed him, however no one protested his presence.

He was here in Iacon to find an old transcript a friend of his--Terminus--had told him about. Megatronus himself was a writer and Terminus had suggested he take a look at the transcript. The old mech thought it was something Megatronus would find enlightening. So Megatronus had decided to listen to his friend and seek out the transcript. The word was it was located in the Iacon Hall of Records. The gladiator figured that it was probably a good idea to check there first.

Megatronus entered the building and made his way to the reception desk. An old, decrepit mech was hunched over it.

“Good orn,” Megatronus greeted. “I am looking for a transcript.”

The mech looked up at the gladiator with blurry optics. “Hmm?”

“A transcript. I’m looking for a transcript.”

“A transcript?”

“Yes.”

The mech turned and pointed to a door behind him on the left. “Transcripts are stored back there.”

Megatronus moved to walk back to the door he had been directed to, but the mech stopped him.

“You must present the proper identification before you go back there.”

“Excuse me?”

“The proper identification.” The mech slowly looked Megatronus up and down. “You do not exactly look like the-transcript-reading type, if you know what I mean.”

Megatronus rolled his optics. He should have expected something like this would happen. After all, he was a gladiator from Kaon. Gladiators did not spend their time reading and writing. The only thing they had on their minds was fighting. It was their job. Their purpose. Megatronus defied this stereotype. He spent his sparse free time working with literature. Poetry, speeches, whatever he could get his servos on. He didn’t want to be chained to the expectations of his caste. He wished to be more than just a mindless warrior and he hoped writing would do just that. It was one of his favorite forms of expression. Words flowed from processor to datapad like a river, and it intrigued him.

Megatronus pulled his identification out of subspace and presented it to the mech.

“Warrior class?” The mech raised an optic ridge. “In the Iacon Hall of Records? Are you sure you are in the right place?”

Megatronus was becoming increasingly annoyed with each passing second. “Yes, I am in the right place.”

The mech continued to stare at the identification for a moment before he sat back. “Alright then. You may go back there. If you can not find what you are looking for, you may request an archivist to help you find it.”

Megatronus nodded and entered the door. That mech had gotten on his last nerve. It was a wonder he hadn’t lost his temper.

The room he had just entered was large and circular. It seemed to stretch up forever, with rows upon rows of datapads full of information. Needless to say, finding one transcript in this place would take forever.

With a deep vent of air, Megatronus approached one of the numerous rows. He scanned the edges of each datapad, looking for the one he wanted. At this rate he would rust by the time he found it.

“May I help you?”

Megatronus turned around. A shorter, red and blue mech stood before him. His light blue optics were full of curiosity and--if he wasn’t mistaken--a bit of naivety. Megatronus found himself entranced almost immediately.

“May I help you?” the mech repeated calmly.

“Oh, uh, I suppose so,” Megatronus said quickly. “I’m looking for a transcript.”

The mech, most likely an archivist, nodded and stepped onto a platform in the middle of the room. He gestured for Megatronus to join him. After hesitating for a moment, the gladiator followed. The platform began to rise.

“Is it a specific transcript you are looking for?” the archivist asked, looking up at the large gladiator.

“Yes. It dates back to before the Golden Age. I believe it was written by one of the Knights of Cybertron themselves,” Megatronus replied. He couldn’t seem to stop staring at the archivist.

He gave Megatronus a small smile. “Alright then.” Placing his focus back on the rows of datapads, he typed a few codes into the console beside him on the platform.

Megatronus watched the archivist work. Delicate servos typed away on the console. Optics scanned the shelves. He had a different aura than what Megatronus was used to feeling. In the gladiatorial pits of Kaon, most mechs had an aura of dominance or violence. Megatronus himself had perfected an aura that would scare most mechs away. But this mech didn’t seem to notice, and if he did then he didn’t care.

The archivist’s own aura was calm and melodious. He seemed content and happy with his work. If anything he seemed to be quite eager to help the gladiator out.

“So,” the archivist began, “are you a warrior?”

Megatronus was taken by surprise by the mech’s conversational tone. He looked at him quizzically. “Yes. I’m a gladiator from Kaon.”

“Wow! I have not met very many gladiators before.” The archivist seemed to be a bit excited by this new revelation. “What is it like?”

“What’s what like?”

“Kaon. Being a gladiator.”

Once again Megatronus was surprised. “It’s a very harsh environment. Only the strong survive in Kaon. A mech like you wouldn’t last an orn.”

“Oh.” The archivist was quiet for a moment. “Then you’re very strong?”

“Strong? I suppose I am.”

He looked like he was about to reply when he suddenly stopped. “Oh! Here, I think this is the transcript you were looking for.” He reached over the guardrail of the platform and plucked a datapad off a shelf. “Here you are.”

Megatronus took the datapad from the archivist. “You have my thanks. It would have taken ages to find this on my own.”

The archivist smiled. “Oh, it’s no problem at all. This is my job, after all.” The platform began to lower back down to the ground. “So, what did you want the transcript for?”

Megatronus took note of the fact that the archivist had not seemed at all surprised that a gladiator of all mechs wanted a transcript. “A friend of mine recommended it to me. You see, I like to write in my spare time.”

“You’re a writer?” The archivist’s optics brightened as he got excited. “What sort of things do you write about?”

“They’re not the type of things most mechs would approve of.” Megatronus was becoming a bit amused by the archivist’s excitement.

“No one has to approve of what you write. You are free to express your opinion.”

Despite the fact that the archivist said this, Megatronus could tell that he knew the statement was not entirely true. The Senate always made sure to censor anything that they deemed to be too far out of line.

“I speak out against the caste,” Megatronus said finally. “I write about the way our world should be. Fair and equal. Our functions shouldn’t be determined by whether we turn into a tank or a microscope. We should be free to choose for ourselves what we wish to do.”

Megatronus stopped himself before he got too carried away. Terminus always joked with him about the fact that he could passionately rant for hours about the subject of the caste. And Megatronus found himself not wanting to scare the archivist away with his radical ideas.

But the archivist seemed unfazed by the outburst, maybe even a bit awed. “Really?”

Megatronus found himself becoming embarrassed, faceplates heating up a bit. “Uh, yes.”

“I would love to read your work sometime,” the archivist continued. “Have you published any of it?”

Megatronus raised an optic ridge. “No, I, uh, have yet to actually publish anything.”

The archivist looked a bit disappointed.

“But...you may read the drafts I have.”

The archivist looked back up excitedly. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. I would love to hear feedback.” He paused. “I...do not have them with me at the moment though… I apologize…”

“Are you returning to Kaon this orn?”

“Hm? Yes.”

“I will be visiting Kaon with my mentor in a few orns. Perhaps we could meet up there and you could show me the drafts.”

Megatronus’s optics widened. The archivist...wanted to visit him in Kaon. A sort of giddy excitement he had never felt before flowed through him. Despite his better judgement, he wanted to see the small archivist again as well.

“Yes, I suppose we could.” He paused and thought for a moment. “Would it be alright if I met you in front of the gladiatorial pits?”

“That would be perfect!”

The platform finally reached the ground with a soft thump. Megatronus stepped off of it and the archivist followed close behind.

“I’ll see you in a few orns then.”

Megatronus nodded. “Yes.” He turned to leave but stopped in his tracks and turned back around. “I don’t believe I ever got your designation.”

The archivist cocked his head to the side. “Oh, my apologies. My designation is Orion Pax.”

“Orion Pax, huh? I am Megatronus.” He reached the door, transcript in his hand nearly forgotten. “Until we meet again.”

Orion Pax smiled and gave the gladiator a small wave.

///

_A Few Orns Later_

Megatronus did not get nervous. He prided himself on nerves of steel and confidence. So waiting for Orion Pax to arrive at the gladiatorial pits of Kaon did not make him nervous. Definitely not…

He vented a short burst of air and crossed his arms over his chest. They had not set a specific time in which they were too meet, so he had been standing here for quite some time. A part of him wondered if the archivist had forgotten about their meeting.

“Megatronus!”

He jerked his helm up when he heard his designation being called. Orion was jogging over to him, waving a servo over his helm.

Megatronus lifted a servo in greeting. “Orion.”

“I apologize for being late,” Orion said as he reached the gladiator. “Alpha Trion and I were held up by an acquaintance of his.”

“Do not apologize. I haven’t been waiting here for too long,” Megatronus lied. Usually if mechs made him wait around for a long time he would get angry and admonish them for wasting his time. But he found himself not caring that the little archivist had taken so long to arrive. He gestured for Orion to walk with him down the street. “Shall we?”

Orion smiled and nodded, following Megatronus.

“Enjoying Kaon?” Megatronus asked with a small smirk.

Orion thought for a moment. “Kaon is...certainly interesting.”

Kaon had a much different atmosphere than Iacon. Whilst Iacon had a regal feel, Kaon was much more rough and intimidating. It wasn’t the type of place mechs would go for a vacation.

Megatronus chuckled. “I imagine it is for a mech from Iacon. You haven’t run into any trouble yet, have you?”

“No. However Alpha Trion and I did not have much time for sightseeing or anything of that sort.”

Megatronus looked down at his companion. “Well, it’s not like there is much to see here anyway.”

He stopped when they reached a bar. He did not come to this one often, but he felt like the ones he usually drank at would be too...rough for Orion. He opened the door and allowed Orion to enter. They took a seat at a small table by the window.

Megatronus pulled out a datapad. “This contains the drafts I told you about.”

“May I?”

“Of course.”

Orion took the datapad eagerly. His optics brightened as he powered it one and scrolled through it, scanning the words that appeared on the screen.

Megatronus was amused by the archivist’s enthusiasm. “I don’t believe I have ever seen someone so enthused to read my works as you are.”

Orion grinned. “That is a good thing, I hope.”

Megatronus nodded. “Yes. It is.” He sipped his high grade as Orion continued to read. While he wanted to converse with the mech, he found himself content with just watching him read.

Orion suddenly looked up. “I do not understand.”

Megatronus frowned. “You don’t understand what?”

“Someone with such passionate views should not be so quiet about them.” Orion leaned forward. “You _must_ publish these.”

Megatronus was surprised. “You do realize that the chances of any of these being published is slim.”

“You do not want them published?”

He sighed. “It’s not that I don’t want them published. But you can see what they are about. The Senate would not allow them to be published.”

“Senate or no Senate, I am sure there are many Cybertronians that would be interested in reading this. Megatronus, you have talent. Your words are moving.” Orion stopped speaking quickly and looked around a bit sheepishly, as if afraid that the Senate was watching. He lowered his voice. “Words are powerful, Megatronus. If you use them the right way you can move people.”

Megatronus was shocked by Orion’s fiery passion on the subject. He would never have expected that the archivist would be this supportive of his work. And he definitely didn’t foresee the mech urging him to publish his work with so much fervor.

Of course Megatronus had been thinking something quite similar as what Orion was saying. He wrote for a purpose, not just for his own enjoyment. He wanted mechs from all over Cybertron to hear what he had to say, otherwise a change would never come about. He had attempted to get his work out to the public before, but the Senate had been quick to put their pede down, determined to stop him from speaking out. But Megatronus was not the type of mech that took no for an answer. He had continued to try to publish his work through any means necessary. Means that were not always the most honorable actions.

However, Orion did not need to know of those actions. Usually Megatronus would have no qualms with telling others of his misdeeds, but for some reason he could not bring himself to tell the archivist. If he was being completely honest with himself, he might even say that he was too embarrassed to tell him.

Megatronus raised an optic ridge. “Why are you so ardent about this?”

Orion looked down for a moment, before meeting Megatronus’s gaze with determination. “Because I feel in my spark that this is the right thing to do.”

“Your spark, huh?”

The archivist’s faceplates heated a bit. “Y-yes. I know it sounds…”

Megatronus let out a laugh. “I like you, Orion Pax. It is refreshing to talk to someone that shares my view on things.”

Orion smiled sheepishly. “You think so?”

Megatronus pushed a drink toward his companion and then leaned back in his seat. “Yes.”

He wanted to say more. He wanted to say that he had always hoped to one day publish his work. He wanted to say that he had desperately clung to his ideals for so long, yearning for someone to share his beliefs. He wanted to say that he found Orion captivating, alluring, enticing. But he said none of these things. He just continued to sip from his high grade and watch the small archivist enjoy the drafts the gladiator had worked so hard on.

The archivist was different. He wasn’t afraid of Megatronus. He was reserved, but he made sure to express his opinion when necessary. He could be passionate about things he cared about as well.

Orion Pax was an enigma and he had managed to entrance Megatronus in the very short time they had known each other, a feat that no bot had ever done before.

///

Megatronus continued to meet up with Orion frequently. The two would go over transcripts and drafts, whether it was at Kaon or Iacon. Megatronus found himself greatly enjoying the archivist’s company. With each meeting they had he felt a strange pull to his new friend...a pull that he could not recall ever feeling before. When he had asked Terminus about it, the old mech had only laughed and commented about how great it must be to be young.

Soon Megatronus had begun to publish his work, with Orion’s help of course. His audience grew and grew, until his name spread to the far reaches of Cybertron, not only for his gladiatorial skills but also his strong beliefs. As it turned out, there were many other Cybertronians who shared in his views. While he had known from the beginning that he was not the only one who was angry with the Senate and the caste, he had not expected the good reception he had gotten.

For once in his life, Megatronus felt content. Not content in the sense that the caste was still in place and the Senate had yet to take up any action to respond to him and his following and take them seriously, but things were finally beginning to turn around. His ideas were out there and Orion...Orion was by his side. He would not lie; their relationship had become much more...intimate as time passed.

They had not planned on it becoming like this. In fact, Orion had expressed his uncertainty about their relationship on numerous occasions. But to Megatronus it felt so right. And soon any of the doubts that either of them had were wiped away.

Megatronus was more than content...he was _happy_.

///

_Some Time Later_

Anger. Fury. A seething rage that bubbled up from within and spilled out in an uncontrollable, raging river.

Megatronus--no, it was Mega _tron_ now--felt it all. And more than just the anger was a feeling worse than anything else one could endure. Betrayal. Utter betrayal.

Orion Pax. His tiny, sweet archivist. His alluring, little enigma. His lover. His everything. The mech had betrayed his trust. Betrayed all of the faith he had put in him.

Why would the Senate listen to _him_ of all mechs?

Orion?

_Why?_

As charming as the archivist was, how could the Senate truly believe he had the potential to be a better Prime than Megatron?

In his blind rage he had made his way to the Iacon Hall of Records, which was not too far from the Senate’s council room. He stared up at the grand building. The building where all of this had started. The building where he had first laid optics on Orion Pax. Orion Pax, who had convinced him to publish his works. Who had inspired him to appeal to the Senate in the first place, only to betray him.

_Slaggit all to the Pit._

“Megatronus--Megatron!”

Megatron didn’t bother looking up. The sweet voice that had once made his spark leap with nervousness and joy now made him sick.

Orion stood a few feet away from the gladiator, panting slightly. He must have run here from the council room to follow after him.

“Megatron,” he continued. “Are you alright? You just stormed off and I--”

“Ha! Am I _alright_?” Megatron turned and looked at the archivist. “Do you really have the right to ask me that? Do you even _need_ to ask?”

Orion shook his head. “I am sorry, I just do not understand--”

“How hard is it to understand?!” Megatron snarled, lunging forward and stopping only a few inches in front of Orion. “You’ve ruined everything, you piece of slag!”

Orion flinched at the harsh words. “Megatron…”

Megatron scoffed. “Do not play the fool.”

“I want to understand what is going on! Please, if I have done something wrong just tell me.”

“Fine. If you need me to spell it out to you, I will.” He straightened up to his full height and glared down at the archivist. “ _I_ was to become a _Prime_ today. And then _you_ stepped in and screwed it all up.”

“All I did was express my opinion. Is that not what you have encouraged me to do for so long?” Orion seemed utterly lost. His hurt expression tugged at Megatron’s spark, but the gladiator merely scowled and stamped out the feeling.

“Not when your opinion ruins what I have worked for for so long!”

“I did not mean to do the things you are accusing me of,” Orion insisted. “Megatron, I am _sorry_.”

“It’s too late for _sorry_ , Orion.” Megatron spit out the name with distaste. He turned and walked a few paces away from Orion. “Do what you want, as it appears I cannot stop you. But unless you plan on fixing what you have done, I do not wish to see you again.”

Orion let out a strangled cry that would break anybot’s spark. But this orn Megatron’s spark was as hard as steel; it could not be broken by anything.

“ _Megatronus, please_ ,” he pleaded through tears.

But Megatron ignored the archivist’s cries and continued on. Orion would not hold him back, no matter what their relationship was...or had been.

Soon the Iacon Hall of Records was no longer in sight and Orion Pax was left to weep on its steps.

///

_Present_

Hot, plasma blasts flew around the mine, occasionally hitting their target with a zap. Megatron knew some of his troops had fallen, but he ignored their incompetence and continued the battle with his foe. His strikes were angry and brutal, but the Autobot leader had no trouble blocking them.

“Megatron!” Optimus’s voice rumbled throughout the mine. With a swift kick, he pushed the warlord back and repositioned himself into a better stance.

Megatron glared and readied his fusion cannon. “Mark my words, Optimus. You will not be leaving this mine alive!”

“We shall see about that!”

The two continued their battle with more force and energy than before. But with each strike, Megatron inspected his opponents movements and expressions. He did this quite frequently actually. What was he looking for within all the emotions he spotted? He wasn’t sure. But his uncertainty did not stop him. There was a lot he could learn from his watchful eye.

Optimus’s strikes were not reluctant or hesitant like they had been so long ago, at the very beginning of the war. Yes, back then it was as if Optimus was trying _not_ to hurt him. But not now. The Autobot did not hold back. He was precise and accurate, skills honed from years of battle.

But if Megatron looked close enough, he could spot a hint of languish within those blue optics. A melancholy expression that revealed quite a lot about the mech.

An expression that, despite all reason, brought Megatron sadness.

He would never show that sadness though. No. He did not regret any of the decisions he had made over the course of his life. No matter how brutal and cold they had been. He could not regret them. That would be weakness--a weakness that could be exploited. So whenever he felt the beginnings of regret or sadness coming on he released some of his pent up rage to drown the feeling.

And as the battle raged on, the regret began to grow until it was so strong that he could no longer stare into those sad, blue optics. So he allowed his anger to take control of his actions and he tried to forget the feeling. No one could ever know of how he truly felt.

Though, he had to admit. Whenever that sadness was caused by Optimus Prime, it became quite hard to drown that incompetent feeling. As if he didn’t even want to.

**Author's Note:**

> Not the happiest of endings, but oh well. Thanks for reading.


End file.
